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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832591">Not Meant To Exist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABloodyGoodTimeToDie/pseuds/ABloodyGoodTimeToDie'>ABloodyGoodTimeToDie</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellestriele/pseuds/Cellestriele'>Cellestriele</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Its Not All Bad [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Wings, Angst, Castiel is confused, Castiel sucks at feelings, Depression, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Reader Has Mental Illness, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt, Trigger warning for suicide, Wing Grooming, angels have soulmates, angsty, but they dont know who they are until they meet them, its not romanticized, like reeeaaallly slow, like slow slow slow, starts at like season 4, strap in for the ride :D, the happy ending is far away tho, trigger warning for angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 13:49:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABloodyGoodTimeToDie/pseuds/ABloodyGoodTimeToDie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellestriele/pseuds/Cellestriele</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After you made an attempt on your life you find yourself in an unmarked grave in the middle of the woods that seems to have been blown down. After you crawl up out of the ground, covered in dirt and sweat with the sun beating down on you. You find a book in an unknown language and a tattoo on your arm in seemingly the same language. On your venture to find someone in the middle of nowhere, you find a strange man who happens to be in the same situation as you. Up from the grave with no idea why. You have no memories of how you got there or any sort of knowledge about yourself, you can't even remember your own name.</p><p>Dragged into an attempt to figure out what exactly had dragged you and your new companion out of your tomb, you meet something- someone- who you feel an instant connection to.</p><p>The two of you felt bound to one another; yet strangely enough neither of you know why.</p><p>(updates every week-ish)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel (Supernatural) &amp; You, Castiel (Supernatural)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Its Not All Bad [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bliss in the place it was meant to be found.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>it has come to my attention that there are not hardly enough castiel/reader fics on ao3.... guess we'll have to fix that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something so horribly amazing about being in love with a television show. It was the perfect world, a world that you couldn’t be a part of. You had been attached to many worlds that weren’t real in your lifetime, an escape from reality. Sohodolls blasts on the radio as you stare down the road ahead of you. You felt cold and you shivered with a deep sadness that rested on your shoulders and inside of your chest. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to die. You hadn’t taken your meds for months, you couldn’t afford them and your insurance had cut you off. </p><p> </p><p>Tragic as it was you couldn’t help but feel so bittersweet. The thought of death in that moment felt so romantic and lovely. A sweet release. A death that you could control. The only thing that you could control. You had known no one who would mourn for you so you felt no guilt as you pulled over on the side of a bridge and stepped out of your run down used car. Not a soul was on the road tonight. It was just you, the moon, and the roaring river that seemed to be miles below you. </p><p> </p><p>You stood on the railing and laughed, the laughter seemed to ease your aching that sat in your bones. You spread your arms and just before you fell you prayed to whoever was listening. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is it, may my afterlife be grand.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>To your shock, someone answered you. <em> It will be, you’ll finally be where you were meant to be. </em>The voice was female. You saw the image of a woman, wearing a black dress, with a haggard look and chains all over her body, she had long red hair that spilled over her shoulders. Just before you hit the water below there was a flash of bright white light and a ringing so loud it pierced your soul. And then it was quiet, dark, cold. </p><p> </p><p>You felt wood pressing against your back and you felt incredibly claustrophobic. The scent of soil was strong. And as you pressed the lid of your wooden prison dust and dirt fell on top of you. You realized that if you stayed here you would suffocate. It took a lot of kicking and scratching but suddenly there was a break in the rotten wooden lid. As soon as you did you were covered in dirt, unable to breathe. It took a lot of digging and force but you managed to break the surface. You breathed in the air of the outside like it was the last time you would ever taste oxygen. </p><p> The first thing you saw was the sky, and then you saw an aged book with strange symbols and intricate designs that sat at the foot of your shallow grave. Vaguely, you realized that you had been inside a coffin. The grave you were in was unmarked. All the trees in the vicinity of your grave had been blown over. </p><p> </p><p>You tried to yell for help but your throat felt dry like hand paper. You wheezed helplessly like a ninety year old with asthma. Your mind seemed to be blank. Where were you? What was your name? How old were you? You leaned down to pick up the dusty aged book from off of the foot of the hole you just crawled out of.</p><p> </p><p>You dusted it off and peaked at the symbols covering it, some of them looked familiar enough. The strange pentacle type symbol on the front was recognizable enough. If you gave a nine year old a pentacle they would pretty much be able to tell you what it was so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.</p><p> </p><p>Your main concern was finding some water before you died of thirst. You put reading the book on the backburner and tucked in under your arm. Walking towards civilization felt like hell, with the sun beating down on you. Your mouth was dry and your tongue felt cracked. You eventually reached a road of some sort. The sun beamed down on your back and you felt the sweat bead on your neck and forehead like someone had dowsed you with hot sticky water. The body odor you were emitting was toxic, but it wasn't the main concern on your priority list. You had walked for so long that you had opened up sores on your feet that were bleeding.  </p><p> </p><p>After what seemed like hours of just walking, you see a figure in the distance who seemed to be headed in the same direction that you were. You tried to call out to them but all that came out was a grated “Hey!”</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully they seemed to hear you, they stopped and turned around to acknowledge you. Their posture seemed guarded. When you got closer you realize it was a man, strong build, green eyes, covered in dirt much like you. When you got at a safe distance, close enough where he could hear you without raising your voice but far enough where you could run if needed. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you wouldn’t have-” you had a small coughing fit, “have happened to have crawled out of a grave, would you?” </p><p> </p><p>He looked you up and down, assessing you. His eyes lingered on the book in your arms before he nodded slowly. His posture was firm and guarded, like he was expecting the worst at any moment. Like he was <em>prepared</em> for the worst.  </p><p> </p><p>“Do you, uh, do you know why?” You were sweating so much at this point, probably overheated. If he told you that you were on a different planet you would most likely believe him with the state that you were in. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of answering you, though, he decided to ask you some questions instead. “What’s that book you’re holdin’?”</p><p> </p><p>You looked down at the book, completely unaware that you had still been carrying it.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, it was on top of the hole I crawled out of.”</p><p> </p><p>You handed it to him and watched as he flipped through it with a pinched and baffled expression. You looked over the edge of the book and peered at the pages, it was in a strange language you had never seen before. You didn’t know if you were having a heat stroke or not, but you were sure the letters on those pages were just scribbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Well I’ll hold onto this, I know someone who can probably translate it. He can help us too, why don’t you come with me?”</p><p> </p><p>It was hot, you were thirsty, and you were at least sixty-five percent sure that he wasn’t going to kill you. You had no reason to argue so you agreed. </p><p> </p><p>The man walked side by side with you for what was probably miles, he always made sure to keep at least four feet between the two of you. He seemed tense, he probably didn’t trust you. Which was understandable considering that the both of you had crawled out of a hole in the ground. </p><p>After what seemed like an eternity of walking, your feet sore and your throat dry, you both came across an abandoned gas station. Your tall handsome friend decided to break the glass to unlock the door, you were too exhausted to feel guilt. Thank whatever deity was listening to you, because whoever abandoned this place left it well stocked. You and your grave buddy downed at least three bottles of water respectively. You both looked around the store for a few minutes before he held up a newspaper while mumbling, </p><p> </p><p>“September, 2009.”</p><p> </p><p>You had no idea when someone had planted you in that hole, so you had no point of reference for how long you had been in there. You were convinced that it was probably a prank, or someone hit you over the head and tried to hide your remains without checking if you were dead. </p><p> </p><p>You both grabbed a bag and threw in some snacks and drinks, neither of you knowing how much longer you would be walking. Your suspicious new friend even started rifling through their skin mags, which you thought was hilarious but decided to ignore. He walked up to the register and grabbed out what little money was left in there. </p><p> </p><p>That's when the tv behind him turned on spontaneously, the only thing that was on it was static. As soon as he turned it back off the radio on the end of the counter turned on as well, a second afterward the tv turned itself back on. To say you were scared was an understatement, you did not fuck with ghosts. He ran towards the shelves and grabbed some salt ordering you to do the same and spread it around the doors and windows. You were too freaked out to question him. </p><p> </p><p>The windows began rattling and shaking. You heard a faint whispering that became louder by the second, the sound seemed to put your friend out of commission since he crouched to the floor to cover his ears. The windows began breaking and you were screaming at this point, the noise was so loud that you could hear it clear as day. </p><p> </p><p>‘<em> Dean Winchester, I am Castiel. Angel of the Lord, acknowledge my presence.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>And as soon as it had come, the chaos was gone. There was glass everywhere, you had a cut on your cheek and two on your wrist from the explosion. You turned over to the man who you had been following, who you assumed was Dean. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, is your name Dean Winchester?”</p><p> </p><p>He looked at you baffled and immediately was on guard, “Who told you that?” His voice was demanding and powerful. </p><p> </p><p>“That voice just a second ago. The one that shattered the windows. It called you Dean Winchester.”</p><p> </p><p>“... What else did that voice say?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Knife kink? these people are weird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean takes you to Bobby's house. After a lovely welcome, you set out to find Sam while trying to figure out what brought the both of you back from the dead.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this was a bit late. School and stuff :(</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>So as it turns out that Dean’s ‘translator friend’ was a crazy old man who tried to stab you both as soon as you opened the door. The man lived in a junkyard so you wouldn’t have been surprised if his mind was on the fritz. He was especially keen on splashing you both in the face with water. He eventually calmed down after cutting you both on the arm with multiple different knives. You were terrified and confused. Did he have a knife fetish? You had no idea, but for Dean the whole situation seemed completely normal even though he did look slightly annoyed. The man had babbled on and on about Dean being a ‘demon’ or a ‘shifter’ which Dean had briefed you on during the drive towards the junkyard after he had hotwired a car, not giving you much detail. After the commotion the old man looked sheepish and then relieved, wrapping Dean in a tight hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were now sitting in what looked like the living room while Dean and the old man who you now knew as Bobby, were discussing things in the other room. You and Dean had a long conversation about the voice and what it could be, he also gave you a long talking to about how monsters were real and something had brought you both back from the dead. You were skeptical but willing to see how things played out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You could hear them talking, the walls on the inside of the house seemed to be pretty thin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dean. Your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were stunned sitting in silence and completely motionless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You heard Dean sigh before continuing. “Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I came to six feet under, that was it. Sam's number's not working. He's, uh... he's not…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby cut him off, “Oh, he's alive. As far as I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sounded relieved at first, “Good.... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's when you tuned out of the conversation. You were stunned and shocked, either they were crazy or monsters were real and you were a zombie. You were having a hard time processing it. You had no memory of who you were but you remembered that monsters were definitely a fairytale. If it was all true then, how long had you been buried? What brought you back? Are you going to start craving brains?  Instead of voicing these concerns you decided to stew in your own confusion and turmoil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You turned your attention back onto the conversation happening on the other side of the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what are you gonna do about your grave buddy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but for now we keep 'em’ til we figure out whether or not they had something to do with us both coming back from the grave. I haven’t really gotten much time to question them but I’m sorta glad you went ape shit on us when we came in, at least now I know that they’re human.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby huffed a laugh, “Yeah as far as we know.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard Dean open the front door before announcing that he was gonna see if he could find anything on ‘Sam’. Bobby came back into the room, his eyes looked hardened with age and time. He looked haggard, like he worked himself too hard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat down a good distance away from you before he began his interrogation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got a name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not that I know of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘not that you know of’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I don’t know who I am. I crawled out of a casket in the ground with absolutely no memories. The only thing I know for sure is that I can speak english.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded, not looking totally convinced but taking the answer at face value. He pulled the book that you had found from where it was sitting amongst the stack of books, before holding it up for you to see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What can you tell me about this book?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shrugged, “It was at the foot of my grave. It's got pentacles on it? I don’t know what the rest of those markings are but the pages look like someone just doodles a bunch of shapes.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened the book to a random page before pointing to the strange writing. “This here is called Enochian, it’s a dead language that was said to be used by angels. That doesn’t give us much to go on, since angels are probably one of the few monsters that are actually myth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You nodded along, like a toddler being taught your parents religion. Wide eyed, confused, and with so many questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set the book back down, making sure to keep his eye on you. “Now, Dean had what looked like a handprint burn on his upper arm. Do you got anything like that on you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shrugged and pulled up your sleeves. You were surprised to see what looked like fresh tattoos on your right arm. You held up your arm to Bobby for him to examine. He took care not to touch the markings while turning your arm over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like a handprint tattoo and some enochian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your face was pinched in confusion and worry, “So does that give us more to work with, to uh, to find what brought me and Dean back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean opened the front door and yelled, “Hey! I know where Sam is, let's go!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dean came into the living room, “You too Jane Doe, can’t have you here by yourself.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The drive was long and tense, given that there seemed to be things unsaid that were floating over your heads. You were headed to  263 Adams Road Pontiac, Illinois. Since Dean broke the speed limit more times than you could count you got there relatively quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You arrived at what looked like a crack motel. Dean knocked on the door of one of the rooms, and a girl in her twenties opened the door, cleavage on display. You tried to avert your eyes, feeling a little bit embarrassed for some reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman looked at you confused, “So, where is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where's what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The pizza…. That apparently takes two guys to deliver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean chuckled and turned to Bobby, “I think we got the wrong room.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A man who looked around Dean’s age stepped up behind the woman. He looked grim and focused, a bit sad but he seemed to mask it well. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Dean. He swallows, shocked, his eyes flicking between Dean and Bobby. He doesn’t seem to notice you at all, or the woman who was in his hotel room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean grins at the man, and says in a small voice full of emotion “Heya Sammy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam is silent and pensive. Dean walked into the room, ignoring the girl, who stepped aside to let him in. As Dean got close, Sam pulled a knife and lunged at Deam. The girl screams and you say a quiet ‘oh shit’ as the scene from Bobby’s house replays itself.  Dean blocked Sam’s attack and Bobby quickly pulled Sam away from Dean, gripping him around the shoulders. SAM struggled against the older man’s grip.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was this just how people greeted each other nowadays? You were so confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like you didn’t do this!!” Dean screamed in a demanding voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what!?” Sam yelled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby, fed up with their shit, intervened “It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's really him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam stared at Dean, shocked “What….” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean, ever the asshole as you have come to know him, responds “I know. I look fantastic, huh?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby let go of Sam, who looked as though he was on the verge of tears as he stepped forward and pulled Dean into a desperate hug. They embraced for several seconds, the room felt heavy with emotion, as Bobby looked on with tears in his eyes. Sam pushed Dean back to arm's length. You were unfazed while the girl looked on, confused. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you two, like, together?” The girl asked. You snorted out a laugh, amused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. No. He’s my brother.” Sam quickly corrected. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, uh, I should probably go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah that's probably a good idea. Sorry Kathy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Kristy.” The girl sounded disappointed, you gave her a sympathetic smile as she left. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned to Sam, looking dead serious. “So tell me, what'd it cost?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam scoffed, “The girl? I don’t pay, Dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's voice began to rise, “That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam started to get irritated at the accusations that were being thrown at him, “You think I made a Deal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby chimed in, “That's exactly what we think.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean gave Sam a glare that could burn a hole through his skull “And your little deal or mojo or whatever brought back more than just me.” He motioned towards you, “We’ve got a Jane Doe that popped out of their grave and can’t even remember their own name, there's no tellin’ how many others you brought back!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I sure as hell didn’t do anything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s voice dropped to what sounded like a parent reprimanding their child, “Don’t lie to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s posture got defensive, “I’m not lying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean started to move towards Sam with murder in his eyes, “So what now, I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam stood up angrily, “Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You had money on Sam if they started throwing punches, Sam had like a foot on Dean. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean grabbed the front of Sam’s shirt, “There's no other way that this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam threw Dean's hands off of him, “I tried everything. That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You wish you would’ve had popcorn, this was like some twisted soap opera. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean relented with a sigh, “It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby chimed in, “Don't get me wrong, I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean paused for a moment, “If he didn’t pull me out and raise Jane Doe, then who did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that was what terrified you. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. sibling conflict makes for good entertainment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It sounded like euphoria.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry this is so late, I've been so stressed out with school work and mental health. A new chapter coming soon. I might post the next chapter within this week but idk :[</p><p>also when the mega angst kicks up in later chapters, I plan on doing short fluffy chapters in between that aren't canon to the story but will sooth your aching hearts. You can skip them if you want :P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean and Bobby sat at the couch while you were seated at the bed, you three were discussing what to do from here while Sam went for a beer run. The air was tense, yet not as heavy as it had been. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean pinned you with an analyzing gaze, yet his posture and demeanor didn’t seem to match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, we’ve established that we can’t let you leave”, Bobby stated matter of factly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You nodded, this was nothing new. Even if they told you that you were free to go, you would most likely follow them around like a lost puppy. You had nowhere to go, no name, no identification, no money, nothing. Unbeknownst to you, they thought you were itching to leave. Freaked out like most normal people ready to flee from all that's considered paranormal. Losing all your memories seems to have left you with a more open mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shrugged your shoulders and nodded. “I get it. I don’t really have any place to go, anyway.” they gave you a pitied look, it made your skin crawl for some reason. Their expression looked familiar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Sam came back so you didn’t have to sit and ponder over it. He passed Bobby and Dean a beer, before handing you the drink you requested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was the first to break the silence, “So what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All by yourself. Who do you think you are, your old man?” Bobby sounded mildly enraged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were mostly silent throughout the exchange, silently taking in everything. Learning what you could, not yet ready to ask questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean saw something across the room, he stood and walked towards it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam had the decency to sound ashamed after Bobby’s accusations, “Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean leaned over to pick up what he had found, “Oh yeah. I really feel your pain.” He had a pink floral bra between his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam, completely ignoring his now not-dead brother, continued “Anyways, uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean dropped the bra where it had been and walked back over to the couch, “When?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yesterday morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stares at you, “Right when we busted out.” You nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby leans forward, his forehead wrinkled in exasperation “You think these demons are here 'cause of you and Jane?” They had taken quite well to calling you Jane Doe, a name commonly used for an unidentified body in a morgue. You thought it was fitting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You crossed your arms over your chest, finally contributing to the conversation. “But why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don't know – some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow.” Dean was up now, pacing about the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby stared at the both of you with a concerned expression, “How you two feelin', anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m a little hungry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You chimed in, “Same, but also kinda tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or demonic? Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?” You breathed a laugh at that, remembering Bobby’s unique brand of interrogation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby shook his head and continued, “Yeah. Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They've gotta have something nasty planned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean threw his hands up in defense, “Well, I feel fine. Jane Doe’s fine too, look-” He motioned towards you and you held up and unenthusiastic thumbs up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam split up the demon not demon argument by offering something actually helpful to the table. “Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know a psychic. A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking.” You smiled at Bobby’s knowhow. You sighed, old people were so knowledgeable. You panicked for a second, not knowing if you were shriveled and old or not. You hadn’t even seen your reflection since you crawled out of your grave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean broke your train of thought, “Hell yeah, it's worth a shot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right back.” Bobby stood and left, probably to call his physic friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stood after Bobby, Sam stopped him. “Hey, wait, I thought you might want this back.” He handed Dean a necklace with some sort of gold horned amulet on it. You couldn’t help but be a bit nosey and stare at their interaction, seems like having no memories also comes with no shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stared at the necklace with nostalgia in the air around him, he grinned up at Sam. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>That night you were staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the boys had been kind enough to buy you a hotel room. It was fairly small, a twin sized bed in the center of the room, a small box tv on a stand at the foot of the bed, a broken coffee pot, and a hair dryer in the tiny bathroom that had blood stains on it. You couldn’t complain, since you didn’t have a memory of a room to compare it to. They had originally wanted to go to the physic that night, but when you fell asleep in the elevator they decided to stay at the hotel for the night and go in the morning. As you stared at yourself in the dirty mirror that was covered in questionable splatters, you analyzed every feature about yourself. Committing it all to memory, building up an image of yourself in your minds eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> The windows rattled and the mirror began to crack. A ringing filled your ears followed by a voice that had no structure, just whispers that you could understand. It was neither deep nor high, it wasn’t gravelly or soft… It simply just existed in a way that couldn’t have been described. Your mind couldn’t comprehend it in a way you could put into words but it was there. It was the same as it was at the gas station, yet you had more time to listen to it. You weren’t as scared as you were the first time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Dean Winchester, acknowledge me. I am Castiel, angel of the lord. You are the righteous man, you have been raised from perdition for a purpose.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although the message wasn’t directed at you, you felt so connected to the voice. You felt its presence like it was all around you. It was warm, and bright. It sent chills down your spine. The mirror finally shattered, it scratched your face and arms but you couldn’t find it in you to cover yourself. You felt entranced. And then, the presence was gone, and you were brought back to reality. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A name graced the edges of your mind, it was oh so familiar. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>y/n </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. maybe not family, but it feels like a possible home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a short chapter, basically a car ride with the Winchesters. I'm trying to keep it light hearted because of the angst coming in the near future :]</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’ve learned quite a bit about the Winchesters in the short time that you’ve known them. You learned that Sam is the more calm brother while Dean is more loud and expressive but at the cost of his emotional intelligence. Dean likes classic rock and cheap gas station food and Sam likes healthier foods and has a more broad taste in music. Dean is more open about being a womanizer and is an unabashed flirt while Sam takes a more subtle approach to flirting and takes people’s feelings more into account. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though they’re completely different from one another, they had this air around them. Like they were glued together by something you couldn’t describe. The car was steeped in their past, and made the wind heavy with heartbreak and philia. It was beautifully perfect and broken in a way that made you feel like you were sitting on the other side of a television screen, never really being able to interact with the characters in a way that mattered. That feeling felt familiar, but it was just that. Familiarity that you had no basis for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There's still one thing that's bothering me.” Dean had broken the comfortable silence that had been filled with low volume classic rock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the night that I bit it. Or... got bit.” Dean laughed at his own humor, “How'd you make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, she tried. But she couldn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You could see Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean she couldn’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You leaned forward to join in, “Yeah, I thought Lilith was like a bad bitch or something?” After you had gained back the memory of your name, you started to express yourself more colorfully in language, Dean was very amused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shook with laughter but tried to stay composed, considering this was a serious conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam shook his head and continued, “She fired this, like, burning light at me, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You gaped at Sam, curious as ever. “Immune?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam nodded, “Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean eyed the highway in front of him like it had all the answers, “Huh. Well, what about Ruby? Where is she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dead. For now.” After those words left Sam’s mouth your heart leaped forward, and you knew that he was lying. You didn’t know why or how, but you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. You decided to keep this to yourself for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean looked like he was trying his hardest to say something without being offensive, that look seemed familiar to you as well but you couldn’t place it. “So you've been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” You felt that jump inside your chest again, you knew he was lying. But you didn’t know why, you also had no idea what ‘ESP stuff’ meant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You tapped Dean’s shoulder, “ESP stuff?” you sounded like a toddler, asking someone about a cool new word you discovered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah, Sam can do freaky stuff with his mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not funny Dean, and it’s not ‘freaky stuff’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You stared at Sam like he was superman, “That's so cool! Can you move shit with your mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam sighed, like he would rather be anywhere but answering your questions. “Yeah, but I’ve only done it a couple of times. Both times were accidental as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You frowned, “Ah that's a shame. That's like a lazy person’s dream, to move shit with their mind so they don’t have to get up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean agreed with you, nodded his head like you were having an intellectual debate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam ran a hand through his hand and sighed under his breath, “Now there’s two Deans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the car ride was mostly you and Dean poking at Sam’s sanity to draw out his bitchiest of faces. It must have been the worst car ride of Sam’s life. In a perfect world, there would be many more in the future. Hopefully things lasted that long, but you couldn't help but feel a dread like there was something horrible around the corner.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, looks like you're fitting in nicely so far :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Beauty of an Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You meet Pamela, things don't go according to plan. You meet the voice thats plagued you.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this one is super late and super short. Its been a rough month :/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pamela was a strong woman, you knew that much when she picked Bobby five inches off the ground to give him a greeting hug. The very air about her ringed with strength and a lively spirit. You couldn’t shake the feeling though, that something terrible was about to happen. It lingered when Dean asked about her tramp stamp of an ex lover, even as she grabbed Dean’s crotch under the table you couldn’t find it in yourself to laugh. Sam was the only one to notice, and quickly leaned down to whisper to you while Pamela was explaining the process of what she was about to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You gave him a weak smile, “Yeah. I don’t know, I just feel like something bad is about to go down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t worry. If Bobby says Pamela is the best then I believe him. Everything’s gonna be fine” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You gave him another smile, feeling slightly better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled up his sleeve to show the handprint that Bobby had told you about. It was red and irritated, like he had been branded. She placed her hand over it and you felt something wash over you that you couldn’t describe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whispers began almost immediately, you don’t notice the television behind you turn static. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘My name is Castiel, human you must turn back. My true form is not for your eyes.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pamela continues, “I invoke, conjure, and command... Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy.” It was like she heard an echo of what you had just heard, not quite hearing it as clearly as you had. You felt pins and needles crawl up your arms. The voice seemed to have that effect on you, it was so powerful yet it made you feel safe. However, no matter how safe it made you feel you couldn’t shake that dread that had crawled up your throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Castiel?” Dean asked, first looking at Pamela before turning and giving you a wide eyed look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back.” Pamela explained. You knew she needed to stop, but you couldn’t find you voice yet</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>White noise rings on the tv and the table begins to shake violently. A warning, you realized. It snapped you out of your stupor “Pamela, maybe you should turn back!” You sounded worried and panicked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pamela ignores you. “I conjure and command you, show me your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I conjure and command you, show me your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I conjure and command you, show me your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I conjure and command you, show me your face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby chimes in as the rattling becomes more aggressive, “Maybe we should stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pamela shakes her head, “I almost got it. I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You scream, suddenly feeling the height of that dreadful feeling. “PAMELA NO!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the candles flare up several feet in the air Pamela begins to scream. Her eyes fly open and are filled with a white-hot flame. She collapses. The rattling, white noise, and flames die out. All while this is happening you stare at the ceiling and see the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, it was pure light and power. Cold yet warm, it acknowledged you and you felt its energy brush against you. It was curious about you. It was faceless, yet had more faces that you could register. It exchanged no words with you, it simply stood in your presence. It was like an abis, it was massive beyond your comprehension. It was as expansive as the sky, as warm as the sun, and as beautiful as the night and day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. It was like no time had passed at all, it felt like hours. Just you and Castiel. Pamela had just collapsed and everyone was rushing about and calling an ambulance to get her to the ER. You turned to Dean, you looked exhausted suddenly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You knew, you had always known. You didn’t have a word for it until now. The miracles made sense now, it wasn’t a demon or a witch. This was something pure and beautiful that had saved Dean. It was curious and older than humanity, it was… It was </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was an angel, Dean...” Before he could question what the fuck you were talking about, you collapsed in a heap on the ground. To far away for him to catch your fall.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You dreamt of Castiel’s warmth. It was almost like they walked through your dreams as you slept. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Shut up, Denise.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You meet the voice that had plagued your mind and the presence that had plagued your dreams. </p><p>His name is Castiel. That much you know. </p><p>But why is his touch so painful?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My angel (girlfriend) is gonna help me write &lt;3 so I'm hopefully gonna get chapters out sooner :D I love her so much, she's my island in the middle of a stormy sea</p><p>ALSO ITS MY BIRTHDAY!! :DDD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sound of a heart monitor. Easy, steady, calming in a way. It's what brought you back to consciousness. You felt awful, like you had been hit by a truck while also having the worst hangover in human history. You hissed out a quiet curse while you tried desperately to open your eyes against the glare of the white lights above you. Once you opened your eyes you glanced around the room for a moment, you tried to sit up and step out of the hospital bed only to be scared shitless when Dean opened the door unannounced. You fell on your ass, and he took the opportunity to laugh at you. You lay there glaring at him with your head pounding. You would have thrown something at him if you weren’t in pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally calmed himself enough to speak, “Lets go. Me, you, and Bobby are gonna summon the thing that pulled us up from the grave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You looked up at the ceiling with your eyes closed and your arms propped on the bed. “Gimme a minute Denise, there's two of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckled at your shitty emasculating joke but still gave you your space to collect yourself enough to get up and walk. After you finally stood and took a moment to stretch, you felt fine. There was still a small headache, you must have smacked your head on something when you passed out. You took the soda from Dean’s outstretched hands and followed him out to the parking lot where Bobby was waiting in the impala. Some nurses tried to stop you but you gave them the finger telling them you were fine. They said something about a seizure? Brain hemorrhage? You can’t remember. You felt fine, so you deemed yourself okay to continue down whatever crazy adventure Dean had planned for you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During the car ride you tuned out most of Dean and Bobby’s conversation. Especially when Sam called, you didn’t want to hear whatever lie he was going to tell his younger brother. You gathered that you would be summoning Castiel. You thought it was a horrible idea… Yet you couldn’t skip out on the chance to meet them. The voice had plagued your thoughts ever since you first heard it. If you denied this chance you would never forgive yourself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Setting up the warding and symbols around the barn was a back breaking chore. It was hours and hours of simply spray painting different symbols. You had absolutely no idea what any of them meant but you didn’t question it. You just copied them down from whatever book or scrap of paper Bobby handed you. You hummed songs that you had heard Dean listening to under your breath, you would catch Dean grinning at you while you sang. You liked the songs he listened to, but it wasn’t like you had much to compare it to. If you had music that you liked it was lost in the fog of your amnesia. The only thing you were sure of was your own name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were completely exhausted. You never wanted to paint another stupid ass magic symbol in your entire life. You probably wouldn’t be able to avoid them though, considering the company you were keeping. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After Bobby finished the ritual you sat there for hours. Until the wee hours of the morning, you could hear the birds chirping outside so you assumed it was at least two in the morning now. You didn’t know how you were able to make that estimate but you went with it. Dean was extremely impatient, asking Bobby every few minutes or so about the ritual and if he had done it right or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were equipped with a moderately sized machete. You almost fell asleep where you were sitting at least three times. You were getting antsy yourself, so you couldn’t really blame Dean for annoying Bobby. Although, you were counting down the minutes to Bobby putting a bullet or two in Dean’s ass. He did not look happy in the slightest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The metal tin roof begins rattling. You all arm yourselves and get into position at the far end of the warehouse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your heart is beating painfully fast in your chest. Dean tries to ease your nerves, “Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.” The rattling gets even louder followed by lightning. The door to the warehouse bursts open and a man in a business suit and a tan trench coat walks in slowly. The breath leaves your lungs and all you can do is stare helplessly while Dean and Bobby open fire at  him but the shots aren’t even enough to slow him down. The light bulbs above his head shatter in a shower of sparks as he passes them. Your eyes begin to tear up as you feel an indescribable feeling wash over you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked ethereal. Not because of his appearance but because of the way he carried himself, the way his brows settled over his intense celeste blue eyes. Soon, he was nearly five feet away   from you. You acted quickly, grabbing your machete and standing behind Dean. The blood rushes through your veins and your face feels numb from adrenaline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man is standing in front of Dean now. His back is turned to Bobby, and you’re standing at the side of him. Dean sets the man with a hard glare. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The man’s voice was hard and crisp. It was gravelly, it sent a shock down your spine. He spoke with conviction, like what he said was absolute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean seemed to not share the same sentiments about the man, “Yeah. Thanks for that.” He drove the demon knife that he had held behind his back into the chest of the man. He didn’t flinch, he simply pulled the knife from his chest much like someone would pull a piece of grass from their hair. He was completely unfazed. He looked at Dean like an insect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bobby raised his weapon, aimed at the man’s neck. The man grabbed his arm and twisted it like it was nothing. He placed two fingers on Bobby’s forehead and he fell to the ground, out cold. It looked like some major hypnosis or something. You ignored your gut instinct to run and instead you rushed the man with your weapon, his hand was immediately on your wrist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It happened so suddenly. Pins and needles ran through your arm, right where your tattoo was. It burned like fire, painful. It felt acidic like your skin was melting off. You screamed in agony and you noticed that the man’s eyes were glowing bright blue. You could see your veins through the light that seemed to be pouring out of your arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's when it clicked. This was Castiel. You felt the fiery pain turn into warmth as you watched his eyes blown wide with curiosity and worry. He wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered a quiet apology, only for your ears. As he laid his fingers on your temple and placed you gently on the ground.</span>
</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>
  <span>Your mind was clouded with thoughts of Castiel, as you fell into unconsciousness. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Angels dont have a sense of humor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean and Castiel have a chat.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS BEING SO LATE,,,,,, AAAHHH</p><p>Its just with the end of year tests and everything its all been so stressful and I thank everyone for their patience. :"D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As soon as you had passed out Dean rushed to your side, checking your pulse, before standing on guard and moving over to Bobby to see if he was still alive as well. Dean looked over to the creature, who had backed off following the collapse of you and Bobby. Everything in Dean’s beings screamed at him to kill this thing in front of him, but looking at the condition of his companions there was no way he would be able to pull it off. He felt that sick dread bubbled up inside of him, the fear of the unknown, the horrid uncertainty. It’s exactly what he felt when he entered hell. It was the worst kind of fear that someone could experience. Dean redirected this feeling the best way he knew how, anger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you?” He wasn’t outright yelling, but the dangerous tone of his voice was enough to make a man crumble. But the being in front of him was no man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am an Angel of the Lord, my name is Castiel.” The being stared at him with no emotion in its eyes, simply curiosity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and I’m a leprechaun. Quit fucking with me there’s no such thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The being tilted its head slightly, regarding Dean like a lion would an insect. “That’s your problem Dean, you have no faith.” As soon as the creature had said this a bolt of lightning struck bringing light to the barn. Behind the creature was the shadow of massive wings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some angel you are, you burnt out that poor woman’s eyes. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did to y/n either, they were screaming in pain. You’re no angel, you’re just a monster.” Dean’s tone was absolute and left no room for argument, whether Dean was the insect or the lion, an outsider looking on at the interaction wouldn’t be able to tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature had the gall to look ashamed, tilting its head downward. “That was… unintentional. I warned the woman not to look upon my true form, and your friend… I’m not sure what happened but I can assure you Dean Winchester, I did not intend to harm them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They heard you, at the gas station and then the hotel. What's this visage that you have now? Holy tax accountant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature looked upon itself, “This, this is merely a vessel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was shocked but not too surprised, all monsters were the same. “A vessel, you’re possessing some poor bastard?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is a devout man, he actually prayed for this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s posture became more tense, if that was even possible. “Well, I’m not buying what you’re selling. Who are you really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature frowned and tilted its head in that curious way, “I told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed, a condescending laugh. “Right. Why would an angel rescue me from hell?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature stepped towards Dean. “Good things do happen, Dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean scoffed, “Not in my experience.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Dean realized what was happening, he was face to face with the so-called ‘Castiel’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter?” Again, Castiel tilted his head. Castiel's eyes flashed with recognition as he bore into Dean. “You don’t believe you deserve to be saved? Is that it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Dean asked another question. “Why’d you do it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer that Castiel gave was not what Dean expected. It was something far away from anything he would have thought possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Supernatural broke my heart, let me grieve</p></blockquote></div></div>
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